


Better Places

by starforged



Category: Cinderella Phenomenon (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M, post-route, spoilers for Waltz route
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-12-02 14:17:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11511153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starforged/pseuds/starforged
Summary: She's gone, and Waltz can't help the momentary wash of panic.





	Better Places

Lucette had disappeared.

It was his first thought when he carefully opened her door, murmuring her name. He hadn’t seen her, not after Parfait had gone to her room to say her final goodbyes. He hadn’t expected her to, to come seeking him out and find comfort. His princess was a proud one still, and Hildyr’s lessons would always be there, always in the back of her mind. But he knew there would be parts of her that would be folding in on themselves. 

Waltz knew Lucette as well as he knew himself.

He knew she would not leave the Marchen.

He knew that her enemies were gone.

So why this rise of panic? Why this tightness in his chest and the sudden lump in his throat? Why did _she’s gone_ keep up a steady beat in his head as he stared at an empty, rumpled bed?

She was still not well enough to be moving around on her own. Too much power at once, too much anguish. 

His fingers dug into the wood of her doorway, grounding himself. Panic wasn’t going to help him. 

With a calming breath, he made his way out of the Marchen and into the woods behind the building. She wouldn’t leave, but she wouldn’t stay either. She would need air and solitude, and Waltz could only give her one of those things at least. It wasn’t until he saw her back that the worry in his chest eased, that he could breathe again. 

Despite everything, she still held herself straight and firm. He could see the tension in her shoulders, though, and the way her arms were bent looked more like she was holding herself. 

“Lucette?”

She glanced at him from over her shoulder, eyes dry but tinged red, the shadows on her skin darker than he would like. Still, the curve of her mouth tugged into a tired smile. “You sound worried.”

“Considering your bad ideas, you can’t blame me.”

Her lips purse, the smile gone. “I would have done anything to save you, Waltz.”

She didn’t turn to face him, and she didn’t tell him to leave. His hand brushed against the small of her back as he came up beside her, leaning in to press a kiss to her temple. 

With a sigh, Lucette leaned into him, her arm wrapping around his waist. There were a million things on the tip of his tongue that he wanted to say to her. He wanted to lecture her, he wanted to cry, he wanted to yell. 

Waltz didn’t. 

He would have made the same sacrifice if it meant her life. For _her_. 

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “My little star--”

“Stop.” Lucette looked up at him, her expression somber. “I know you’re angry, but I don’t care.”

“I’m not angry,” Waltz told her with a shake of his head. “You were just better at acting than I thought.”

“I was pretty good,” she murmured. “I think I’m good enough to be your assistant now.” Her elbow dug into his rib. 

“I feel as though the princess might be _threatening_ me into giving her the position?” Despite everything, he can feel a grin take over his face. And in return, she grinned. It was the brightest smile he had seen from her in years, carefree and loving. 

He had never felt more in love with her, her strength, her heart. 

“If you think that is a threat, then you are living with a horrible amount of optimism.” 

“If you have other threats that you think you could persuade me with, I’m all ears.”

A lovely flush blooms along her cheeks. He leaned down to kiss each cheek, to feel the warmth of her skin and the reaction to his words. Surprisingly enough, though, her mouth finds the shell of his ear.

“I have ideas, Waltz,” Lucette whispered to him. 

Love did strange things to a man. His face heated in return, and he had to laugh at himself. 

“Not now,” he said. His lips brush against hers, gently. “When you’ve recovered, when--”

“We’re in better places,” she agreed. Her free hand came to cup his cheek, thumb brushing over his skin in soft circles. “I would like to talk about it.”

“Now?”

She nodded. “Now.”

“You need rest now.”

“Then we can talk in bed.”

His gaze flickered upward toward the sky. “You will be the death of me.” 


End file.
